Private Paradise
by Lynnlee22
Summary: Billy and Phyllis take some time away.
1. Chapter 1

"Do you want some more salad, Mom?" Summer busily plundered behind the counter, artfully avoiding direct eye contact.

"No, sweetheart, I'm fine." Phyllis sighed. She and Summer often often had lunch at the club, at Crimson Lights, even at Newman on occasion, but Summer almost never visited her at work. The situation was complicated. Her daughter was caught between two families, having divided loyalties and she could understand her instinct to want to distance herself from Jabot as much as possible….which was precisely what made today so interesting.

"What about some tea?" Summer continued to flit about the lounge nervously. "There's Orange Zinger, Earl Grey…"

"Summer," Phyllis called, her voice more stern than it had been before.

Summer looked up, the tea bags slipping from her fingers and falling back into the box.

She nodded.

"Sweetheart, why don't you just come sit down and talk to me. You called me and asked me to have lunch because you said you needed to talk and you've spent the entire time bouncing around the room like you're on a sugar high. It's pretty obvious you're avoiding talking to me about whatever this is and honestly the things I can conjure up in my mind are probably far worse than what you're actually going to say."

Summer smiled, relaxing a little as she took a seat at the table across from her mother. "It's just…I don't want you to think" She stopped, considering her words again. "I love you Mom and I don't want to hurt you."

"Honey I know that. What on earth are you talking about?"

Summer sighed. Like ripping off a band-aid, she thought to herself… "Its about Thanksgiving, Mom."

Phyllis looked confused, "ok."

"Well, you know GCU has their fall break before the actual holiday so we don't really get any time off and with work and school and Dad going through everything he is, I'm just not sure how much I'll be around over the holiday." She took a deep breath, trying to read her mother's face. "I mean, I know it's your first holiday without Jack and it's going to be hard because you're alone and I don't want you to feel like I'm abandoning you because it's not like that at all…I'm just…"

Phyllis held up her hands. " …Summer!" She smiled as her daughter finally took a breath and stopped talking.

"It's ok. You don't have to explain. I completely understand and I don't ever want you to feel like it's your responsibility to make sure I'm entertained. I'm a grown woman–just like you are. You have your life and I have mine. I love spending time with you, but you should never feel obligated to do anything with me, ok?"

"Mom…it's not just about that…"

"Hush…besides, it's a moot point. I've actually been thinking a lot about Thanksgiving and I had already started pondering how depressing it would be to be alone, so I made plans of my own."

Summer's eyes brightened. "You did? Mom, that's great? You going to see Daniel and Lucy or Aunt Avery?"

Phyllis shook her head. "Actually no. I'm going to take a little break from everyone and everything. I'm taking a break from cold Wisconsin winter and I'm sailing off to a warm, sunny island…somewhere tropical." She reached into her bag and pulled out the brochure.

Summer took it, glancing at the glossy photos. "Wow," she sighed, "it looks great." She looked up at her Mom. "This is good, Mom. You need this. It'll be good for you..a chance to relax, to get away from work, from a Jack, from Billy, from the fighting and the whispering and the rumors. You can get some rest and some peace."

"That's the plan, honey." Phyllis sighed as she felt her cellphone vibrate. She glanced at the number and at the time in the phone. "Nooo," she hissed, jumping up and quickly grabbing her bag. "Honey, I'm sorry…I'm late for a meeting. Can you clean this up please?"

Summer nodded. "Sure, Mom. We'll talk later."

* * *

Billy watched the numbers on the elevator light up, letting out a relieved sigh when the doors opened. He turned to Dave. "Okay, Dave. I'm gonna let you in on a little secret." He smiled, leaning close to the man as if the information he was sharing was truly confidential. "A few steps down this hallway, there's a door and behind that door, Dave…" he paused, gesturing wildly for effect, "there are concessions like you wouldn't believe. Coffee, mini muffins, bottled water, juice, donuts, bagels. I'm not talking grocery store stuff, Dave. I'm talking bakery quality."

Dave stared at him, stone faced.

"Dave, I know your orders are clear. You have a mission, but if you could just…I don't know get distracted for two to three minutes while I dart into that lounge, there might be a donut in it for you."

Dave didn't respond.

Billy stood still for a moment then slowly took a step down the hall, smiling as he saw Dave slowly turn his back. "You're a good man, Dave."

"Nothing with powdered sugar," Dave said, his voice still deadpan. "It'll get on my uniform."

Billy nodded. "You got it." He smiled as he stepped into the lounge, grabbing a chocolate covered donut and juice for Dave and grabbing a cup for coffee for himself. As he poured the hot liquid into the cup, his eyes fell on a brochure that lay on the table. A cruise ship adorned the front and inside there were pictures of island excursions, beaches, and pools.

He glanced at the back page, the printed contact information representing a travel agent he recognized. She'd done business with Jabot for years. He considered the last time he'd gone away–taken time for himself, no agenda, no plans, just sand, sun, and surf. It certainly sounded a hell of a lot better than fighting with Travis over who would carve the turkey. He slipped the brochure into his coat pocket. A little time away might be exactly what he needed.


	2. Chapter 2

Phyllis took a breath, the cool breeze gently lifting her hair off her shoulders. The smell of the salt water wafted through the air as hints of coconut oil and tropical drinks mixed in the air. This is exactly what she needed.

She smiled politely as several couples passed hand in hand. There it was, the familiar ache, the one she tried to quell with work, with alcohol, with sheer determination to pretend it didn't exist, yet she still felt it, every time she saw two people so clearly in love. Another deep breath-another calming infusion on the tropical elixir of relaxation. That wasn't what this trip was about. This was about her..only her. She needed to get away-to forget and that was precisely what she planned to do.

The attendant took her passes with a welcoming smile and ushered her to her suite. She stepped aside as she watched him leave her bags in the corner. After declining the offer of anything else, Phyllis sat on the bed, the view of the sparkling water from h er balcony lulling her into serenity.

* * *

Billy walked onto the deck, row after row of lounge chairs sat empty, just waiting for weary travelers to fill them. He pulled the brochure from his pocket, the itinerary still stapled to the back. There were so many excursions, so many things to do, but somehow everything seemed to be geared towards couples or groups...not the sad single cruiser who was here to forget the fact that he was in fact sad and single. His eyes fell on the deck layout and quickly found the deck bar. Most people probably planned to start their trip sober. Not him.

* * *

"Well, you know what I think...I think you're better off without him." Billy swirled the scotch around in the glass as he peered at the young woman beside him. "I mean any guy that would walk away from marrying you would have to be crazy, right?"

She giggled, running her hand up his arm allowing her fingertips to trail over his shoulder.

He smiled at her, her body curving against his, a nearly empty margarita glass sitting precariously in front of her. "How many of those have you had?" He asked.

"Two," she whispered, leaning even closer to him. "But you don't need to worry about that. I can drink with the best of them. Trust me. My inhibitions aren't lowered tonight. You're not taking advantage of me."

Billy sighed, looking at her. She was beautiful, likeable, easy to talk to-yet he still hesitated.

"Why don't we go back to your room?' She cooed, reaching for his hand and standing up beside him.

Billy nodded, the scotch making him warm and relaxed. He walked down the deck, turning down the narrow corridor, finding his door and reaching in his pocket for his room key. His hand froze as he heard a voice.

"Jesus," he hissed.

"What's wrong?" Her breath was hot on his ear as she leaned in close, her body pressed up against him.

Billy shook his head. He couldn't tell her. What was he supposed to say-that he thought he heard the voice of the woman he loved? That he spent so much time thinking about Phyllis that he now conjured up vivid memories of her-even memories that seemed so real he'd swear she was on this very ship.

He shook his head again, more vigorously this time. "Nothing," he whispered. "It's nothing."

"Good," she whispered. "Because I'd hate to think you were having second thoughts about this. I usually have pretty good instincts about guys and if there's one thing I know, it's that you aren't a mistake."

The words hit him like a brick. The color drained from his face. Flashes of memories, of her face, of her skin, of the feel of her hair...

"I can't," he managed, stepping back and putting distance between them.

"What?" She stammered.

"I'm sorry. I just can't." He ran his hand over his face. "You're very...". He looked at her again, the sheer swimsuit cover providing absolutely nothing in the way of modesty. "It's not you."

She huffed. "Well, I damn well know that. You know it's a shame too. We could have a really good time tonight."

Billy leaned back against the door as she stormed off. He sighed and headed back down the corridor towards the bar. He'd need far more help forgetting tonight.

* * *

Phyllis stared at the itinerary. The ship had everything-restaurants, bars, theaters, casinos, even a full service spa, but she hadn't even been able to summon the desire to leave the room. She sat on the balcony, the thick, white terrycloth robe tied around her. The view was everything she could have hoped for and she stared up at the night sky wondering if things would ever be as simple as they seemed at this moment.

The slight breeze carried the gentle sounds of soft music and gentle laughter and she looked down at the deck, watching as groups of people gathered in pleasant conversation, as families sat watching their children, as teenagers struggled to ditch their parents, and as couples cuddled in oversized lounge chairs.

She saw the tiki bar at the far end of the deck, a few people seated there drinking tropical drinks with little umbrellas. One man drew her attention. He sat at the end of the bar, his shoulders slightly hunched, his hair dark and mussed, his hand wrapped around the glass of what appeared to be straight liquor. He reminded her so much of him. She took a breath and closed her eyes. Thinking of him was not productive. She turned to walk back into her room, glancing over her shoulder one last time before closing the door.

* * *

The group of teens at the table behind him had been chattering endlessly since he returned to the bar but at the moment their conversation had centered around the sky. Billy finally turned to look up, to see the fantastic display these almost adults seemed so fascinated by. As he did, he saw her, but it couldn't be. Could it? Billy stood, gripping the bar as the steady stream of liquor made itself known to his legs.

Was he crazy-had she finally driven him to madness or was it actually possible that she could be here-that someone, somewhere believed they were meant to be together after all.


	3. Chapter 3

Billy made his way across the deck, weaving through the small crowds of people, grabbing on to the backs of lounge chairs for support. This is the public service announcement you should give about drinking, he thought. It's impossible to track down a women when you can barely stand upright. He glanced up at the balconies, all of them now empty, his eyes searching for any sign of the woman he'd seen-the one he was almost certain was Phyllis.

He made it to the corridor, his body pressed against the wall. After struggling with his keycard for a moment, he opened the door, heading straight to his own balcony and stepping out. Looking down, he could see the bar. The vantage point was right. The voice he'd heard earlier...was it even possible?

"I must be really losing it," he whispered aloud as he let his body relax into the empty chair. He stared out over the ocean. The night sky seemed to fade into he dark ocean waves and he tried to lose himself in the tranquility of it all. There was only one problem, his mind was otherwise occupied-as it always was-with thoughts of her. The bar below them looked almost empty now, the small groups of teenagers slowly drifting away and only a few stragglers remaining. He watched a few couples swaying in time to the rocking of the ship. What he wouldn't give to be with her like that, to have her pressed up against him, her arms wrapped around him, her head resting on his shoulder.

Instead he sat here alone, imagining crazy scenarios in which the two of them separately booked the same cruise at the same time and ended up mere feet away from each other. It was crazy and intellectually he knew that. In his heart though, he didn't want to believe it. He wanted to believe crazy could happen. He needed to believe it. He needed to believe in the fantasy. That was what they were. That was what they did. It had been crazy, but it had also been wonderful and no matter what anyone said, it had also been real.

* * *

Phyllis slowly walked to the bar, her eyes scanning the people there. She looked for the man she'd seen from the balcony. In her mind, she knew it couldn't be him. It would be an impossible coincidence, but somehow until she knew...until she laid eyes on the person and saw it-she still had this nagging hope.

The bartender smiled at her as she wandered by. He held out the bottle of tequila in his hand. She nodded and took a seat. She stared at the shot glass in front of her. This might help her forget for tonight, but she'd still remember him in the morning.

"I really shouldn't." Phyllis leaned back a little, her body feeling heavier, her bones limber and soft. By the third shot, the tequila had stopped burning her throat on the way down. If only the pain in her heart was as easy to numb.

The man sat close to her, close enough for her to smell the oil he'd slathered himself with. She'd seen him sitting by the deck pool when she'd approached the bar and he'd quickly joined her, picking up her tag and happily encouraging her to continue matching him shot for shot.

"Aww..come on. You don't want to leave yet. Shots are on me." He smiled at her, his eyes roving over her bare shoulders. Her ring sparkled under the moonlight. "Your husband must be plenty confident."

Phyllis glanced down at her hand, the thought of another shot suddenly more appealing. "Oh," she sighed. "Right."

"I just mean, letting a woman that looks like you come to a bar alone...it's not exactly the best way to ensure she comes home."

"I'm divorced actually." She saw his eyes light up. "But I'm not looking for anything here. I just came down here to get a drink. That's all."

She felt his body slide closer to hers as she saw the smile on his face grow. "Sometimes the best things in your happen are found when you aren't looking for them." He leaned in closer, his mouth just inches from her ear. "How about we take this party somewhere a little more private?"

"No...I can't," she whispered, leaning away from him. "I'm actually seeing someone." She looked up at him, relieved to see him back off.

He held up his hands. "I hear ya," he said, putting some space between them. "I'll say it again-I've got a lot of respect for any guy confident enough to send you out alone."

"So do I."

She saw him turn too, a sure sign she hadn't imagined the voice. Her body turned slowly, the tequila causing the room to spin a bit as she swiveled on the stool to face him.

"Billy," she whispered, "What are you doing here?"

The man beside her eyed him suspiciously, then turned back to look at her. "You know this guy?"

Billy stepped closer, his hand resting on the small of her back. "Yeah she does." His voice was calm but his face showed his seriousness. "Does she know you?"

"We uh...we've been getting acquainted this evening," he smiled, his eyes looking back and forth between them.

Billy turned back to look at Phyllis. "Really?"

"I was just having a few drinks. He was here at the bar. I was just telling him that I wasn't looking to meet anyone."

Billy nodded. "Well, then, I guess you were probably getting ready to leave then, right?"

She shifted his hand a little, his fingertips dancing up and down her spine.

"Yeah," she whispered. She nodded as she carefully stood to her feet, the feel of his warm hand on her back steadying her while simultaneously making her weak. She smiled slightly at the man at the bar as she walked slowly beside Billy.

"Where are we going?" She said softly as he led her away from the bar.

He looked down at her. "You'll see."


End file.
